


The Adventures of Little Duckling Churchill (4 Times)

by Hannibal_X_Will



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack, Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hannigram - Freeform, Jealous Hannibal, M/M, duckling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibal_X_Will/pseuds/Hannibal_X_Will
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will finds an abandoned duckling and adopts it - Hannibal is not happy about it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic so please be gentle!!!
> 
> Established Hannibal/Will relationship with lots of cute baby duckling fluff ahead! (Can be read as Crack if you want.)
> 
> Hope you like it! :D

“Will, what is this?” 

The FBI Special Agent looked up from the newspaper he was reading at the breakfast table. 

“It’s a duckling, Hannibal,” Will told him, taking a mouthful of strong black coffee – fresh from Hannibal’s fancy machine. 

“I can see that it’s a duckling,” Hannibal snapped, his tone irritable, “I mean, why is it in my kitchen?” 

Will got up from the table and crossed to the other side of the kitchen to the shoebox Hannibal was peering into with a look of distaste. Reaching inside, he gently scooped up the tiny ball of soft feathers and lifted the duckling to his face so he could meet its round black eyes. He missed Hannibal’s jealous look that he threw at the duckling. 

“I found him,” Will said, stroking a fingertip over the bird’s small fragile body, “when I was walking the dogs this morning. He was abandoned, alone, I couldn’t just leave him.” 

“You could have given it to your dogs to eat,” Hannibal grumbled, tearing his eyes from the duckling nestled in Will’s palm to pour his own mug of coffee. 

“Don’t be so cruel, Hannibal,” Will told him sternly, “and he is not it – his name is Churchill.” 

“Churchill?” Hannibal shot Will a sceptical look – though there was fondness in his eyes. 

“What?” the FBI agent said, returning the duckling to the shoebox “I already have a Winston.” 

Sighing, Hannibal moved close to Will and forced the younger man to meet his piercing eyes. The doctor recalled a time not so long ago that Will Graham would have run a mile if anyone had got as close to him as Hannibal was now. But those times were fading and with Hannibal as his anchor, Will was slowly conquering his anxieties. 

Lifting a hand, Hannibal caught hold of Will’s chin and traced his long elegant fingers down his dark stubble. 

“Such compassion,” he murmured, leaning his face close to Will’s, “reserved only for animals.” 

“And, for you,” Will whispered, an embarrassed blush spreading over his cheeks. 

Hannibal grinned wolfishly and breathed against Will’s lips, “I hope compassion is not the only thing reserved for me.” 

Will’s eyes fluttered shut as Hannibal’s lips brushed his. Then the duckling started to cry. Breaking the kiss as if he had been stung, Hannibal glowered down at the duckling. 

“I’m going to make a pie out of you,” he hissed at the baby duck. 

“Why are you acting like that towards Churchill?” Will demanded, picking the duckling back up and cradling it protectively against his chest. 

Hannibal didn’t answer. He turned his back on his boyfriend and his new pet. 

“Are you jealous?” Will asked incredulously, trying not to laugh. The duckling pecked at his finger hungrily. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Hannibal retorted hotly, not meeting Will’s gaze. 

“You are!” Will cried triumphantly, lifting the buckling up again, “did you hear that little Churchill, Daddy Hannibal is jealous of you.” 

Hannibal froze, “did you just refer to me as Daddy Hannibal?” 

The colour drained from Will’s face and he tried to backtrack but Hannibal put a finger to his lips. 

“Call me it again,” he whispered in a voice thick with hunger and lust. 

Will opened and closed his mouth, embarrassment and arousal catching his tongue. Leaning down to kiss the FBI agent once more, Hannibal breathed in Will’s scent – noting with a feeling of victory his boyfriend was no longer wearing that awful ship-on-a-bottle aftershave. 

Just as their kiss was deepening, the duckling twisted around in Will’s palm and pecked Hannibal hard on the back of his hand. 

That was the first time little duckling Churchill was almost turning into dinner by Hannibal Lecter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is caught between his dislike of little duckling Churchill and his desire to make Will happy no matter what!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you so much everyone for the huge amount of interest and love you have given this story! So here's the next chapter! :D

Will had little duckling Churchill sitting on a towel covering his lap when Hannibal entered his – their – bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the large king-sized bed, Will hardly noticed Hannibal as he fussed over the baby duck. A small bowl sat on the mattress next to him and from it Will plucked a small pellet – he had driven to the local pet store and bought duck food that morning. 

“The same rule of no animals upstairs and especially not on the bed applies to ducks as well as dogs,” Hannibal grumbled as he crossed to his walk-in wardrobe and took off his expensive suit jacket. 

Will glanced up and watched the subtle way Hannibal’s waistcoat hugged his strong torso as he moved. Churchill squirmed on Will’s lap and began to pull on a stray thread. Taking his eyes off Hannibal, Will stopped the duckling from pecking the towel. 

“Here little Churchill,” Will cooed, gently nudging the tiny buckling’s head up and holding the pellet out, “you must be hungry.” 

The duckling looked at the food with the same look of distaste as Hannibal did at a McDonalds. Will had to bite his lip to keep from snorting at the similarity. Hannibal reappeared, suit jacket and tie off and cuffs unbuttoned and rolled up over his elbows. 

“Not eating?” he asked, trying to sound uninterested but failing. 

Will shook his head, concerned, “No, I’m beginning to think something is wrong. Perhaps I should take him to the Vet.” 

“Try wetting the pellets a little – it helps them to swallow it – or you could add a little sugar,” Hannibal suggested without realising he was speaking, he didn’t want Will to think he cared for the would-be main course – because he didn’t – but he couldn’t stand Will’s lost and worried expression. 

“How do you know that?” Will asked, looking up at Hannibal. 

At first the older man didn’t answer, he busied himself with taking off his watch and unbuttoning his waistcoat. Putting the towel on the middle of the mattress, Will carefully placed little Churchill onto it before standing up and crossing the bedroom to Hannibal’s side. 

“Hannibal?” Will prompted, laying a hand on his forearm. Sighing, Hannibal turned his head and pressed a kiss to Will’s unruly brown curls. 

“I looked up how to care for ducklings,” Hannibal admitted sheepishly, trying to shrug off Will’s hand. 

“You did?” Will gasped, smiling broadly. He placed his chin on Hannibal’s shoulder and looked up at him with love in his eyes, “I knew you cared for him.” Hannibal snorted, “I don’t care for the duckling – I care for you, Will, and you care for the duckling.” 

Reaching up, Will threaded his fingers through the back of Hannibal’s slicked-back hair and drew him down into a firm kiss. 

“Thank you, Hannibal,” he murmured against the others warm lips. Winding his arms around Will’s waist, Hannibal relaxed into his boyfriend’s affection and kissed him back heatedly. Just when things were about to get interesting, Will pulled away and placed a hand on Hannibal’s chest – feeling the heavy beating of his heart beneath his palm. 

Straightening his glasses, Will coughed and said, “I’m going to get some water to soften the food, watch Churchill please.” 

Will left and Hannibal rubbed a hand over his face, pushing down his awoken arousal – how many more times will the duckling get in the way of him ravishing his dear Will, he wondered. Moving to the bed, Hannibal perched on the edge and looked down at the duckling. It was...cute - that was the only word to describe it really – but Hannibal wasn’t overcome with warmth towards it. 

Still, for some reason, he couldn't help but reach down towards it. The duckling eyed his large hand warily and tried to move away but Hannibal was fast and scooped it up. 

“Now,” Hannibal began, raising the duckling up to his eye level, “let’s get something straight. Will may be...infatuated with your soft feathers and endearing size, but I will not be so easily won over.” 

The duckling pecked his finger but Hannibal ignored the slight pain. 

The door clicked behind him and Will returned holding a glass of water. A huge smile broke across his face at the sight of Hannibal holding Churchill. 

“Don’t say a word,” Hannibal growled. 

Will held up his hand, “I wasn’t going too, Daddy Hannibal. But the two of you do look so very –“ 

He broke off as Hannibal’s face suddenly went stiff and the colour drained out of it as shock and fury rose up liking a snake. Slowly he looked down at the duckling and hissed through his teeth, “It has just pooed in my hand!” 

Will didn’t think he had ever crossed Hannibal’s bedroom so quickly in his desperation to grab Churchill out of harm’s way. 

That was the second time little duckling Churchill was almost turning into dinner by Hannibal Lecter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked it as much as the first part! Next part will be up soon <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has to leave little duckling Churchill alone with Hannibal - but perhaps it wasn't him Will should be worried about, enter Winston!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by Lisn's suggestion (though I have changed it slight). If you have an idea for a chapter please post in the comments and I may include it! Hope you guys enjoy and it puts a smile on your faces :D

Hannibal was awoken by Will leaning over him and pressing an apologetic kiss to his lips.

“What’s wrong?” he asked his boyfriend as he sat up in bed. 

“Jack just called – they have found something they want me to take a look at,” Will said wearily, his eyes were slightly bloodshot behind his glasses and there was dark bags beneath his eyes.

“Have you slept at all?” Hannibal asked the FBI agent, concern clear in his eyes as he cupped Will’s cheek.

Shrugging his shoulders, Will tried to avoid Hannibal’s gaze as he muttered sheepishly, “the nightmares were back – and the stag.”

“Will,” Hannibal spoke his name firmly and pulled the younger man down so he sat on the edge of the bed, “how many times have I told you to wake me up if you have a nightmare?”

“I’ve lost count,” Will said with a snort, rubbing a hand over his tired face.

“Then why don’t you do it?” Hannibal made sure he didn’t sound angry, but the dark emotion was there, simmer beneath his skin. 

“You need to sleep too,” Will sighed, “I was fine. I went downstairs and sat with Winston and Churchill – that reminds me, please don’t leave Churchill in a room alone with Winston, he keeps looking at him as he’s a bone.” 

“How long are you doing to be at the station?” Hannibal asked. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” Will said, leaning into his boyfriend’s space and pressing another kiss to his bow-shaped lips. Hannibal returned the sweet kiss and threaded his fingers into Will’s messy curls. 

“Try not to empathise too deeply,” Hannibal warned him gently, brushing a hand across Will’s stubbly jaw line. 

“I’ll try,” Will promised - though without any real conviction. 

They kissed a final time, then Will left their bedroom and Hannibal laid back down. He listened to the sound of his boyfriend moving through the house, the noise of the front door opening and closing then Will’s car starting up and pulling out of the driveway. 

For a moment, Hannibal remained still, allowing the tingle on his lips from Will’s kiss to slowly fade. Then, downstairs, one of the dogs began to whine. Sighing, Hannibal rubbed his eyes and got up. Pulling on his robe over his silk pyjamas and slicking back his hair casually with a sweep of his hand, he left the bedroom and started downstairs. 

Hannibal found Winston by the kitchen door, whining and trying to nudge it open with his nose. The dog stepped back as Hannibal came up behind him but wagged his tail happily – Winston was the only one of Will’s dogs that showed no fear of him. 

Opening the door, Hannibal saw why the dog was so eager to get inside – Will had left the shoebox containing Churchill on the worktop. Winston rushed over to it and gazed longingly up, tongue lolling out. 

“As much as I would love for you to eat that tiny feathered pain, I don’t think Will would appreciate it,” Hannibal told the dog as he pushed him to one side with his foot. 

The duckling blinked blearily up at him and cried then opened its beak – asking for food. Hannibal observed with disgust that the baby duck had completely soiled its box; he would have to change the newspaper (maybe even the box). 

Hannibal looked around for something to put the time-consuming bird in and reached for the nearby saucepan. Picking the duckling up, wrinkling his nose at the smell, he popped it into the saucepan. Finding a plastic bag he shook the dirty content of the box into the bag then tied the knot and dropped it next to the bin to be taken outside. Winston padded over and sniffed the bag with interest. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Hannibal said in a low growl. The dog whined at him but backed away from the bag. 

”You do suit being in that pot,” he told the duckling and Winston barked in agreement. 

Hannibal found a cloth and wetted it before picking the duckling up and cleaning off its feathers the best he could. When that was done he fed it and the dogs before going to his study and sitting down in his chair behind his desk. He placed the duckling on top of the desk and watched as it explored the surface and his stationary with youthful interest. 

“Don’t fall off,” Hannibal told the baby duck before he took his eyes off it and opened his sketchbook and picked up a pencil. 

Hannibal quickly lost himself in his drawing, letting his hand fly over the paper and draw whatever sprang to mind – in this case it was Will sprayed on the bed, fast asleep, hair sticking up in all directions and his glasses perched awkwardly on his nose. He was so lost in his work that he didn’t notice Winston entering his study and creeping silently towards his desk. 

The dog stretched its head up and sniffed around the edge and Churchill – curious after the nose – waddled over to the edge. Peering over the edge, the duckling leaned over and touched its beak to the dog’s nose and Winston jumped back in surprise. 

Hannibal still didn’t look up – adding the fine detail to Will’s hair. 

Churchill tried to get close to Winston again, but this time the dog moved back and the duckling lost his balance. He toppled off the edge, bouncing on Hannibal’s thick expensive carpet. The duckling blinked and looked around – stunned but unhurt. Winston shrank onto his belly and crept forwards until his nose was in the duckling feathers. 

An hour past and just as Hannibal was making the final touches to his drawing, he heard the sound of Will’s car pulling into the driveway. He looked up as the front door opened then closed – and froze. By the side of his desk was Winston and between his paws was Churchill. Hannibal’s heart missed a beat and cold dread filled him. 

“Oh no,” he breathed, mind racing – how was he going to explain this to Will? 

“Hannibal?” Will’s voice called through the house. 

Voice shaking, Hannibal replied, “In my study.” 

Will’s footsteps were coming towards the room and Winston lifted his head and wagged his tail at the approach of his master. He is never going to forgive me, Hannibal thought appalled. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to think. 

But it was too late; Will pushed open the door wide and stepped inside. He smiled as he saw Hannibal and Winston lying by the desk. To Hannibal it felt like an age before Will caught sight of the motionless ball of feathers between his dog’s paws. His eyes widened, face went pale and mouth opened. 

“Will,” Hannibal began, “I’m sorry and can explain –“ 

Suddenly the duckling peeped its adorable cry and lifted its head. Winston’s nudged Churchill with his nose and the duckling got to his feet. Will’s shoulders sagged with relief and put a hand to his forehead. Hannibal was gripping his pencil so hard he thought he was going to break it. 

Will crossed the distance to Hannibal’s desk in a few long strides and crouched down to scoop the duckling up and hold him close. 

“Don’t scare papa like that, little Churchill,” he cooed to the duckling, rubbing his cheek against the feathers – which were slightly damp from Winston’s wet nose. 

Hannibal couldn’t remember the last time he felt small, but now - now he felt minuscule. Will had trusted him to look after Churchill and he had failed – he hadn’t even noticed he was fallen off the desk and that Winston had entered the room! 

Speaking of the dog - Winston got up and shot Hannibal an unimpressed look. His shame must have been clearly written across his face for Will moved to perch on the edge of the desk and said gently, “It’s alright, Hannibal, I’m not angry at you.” 

Looking up quickly, Hannibal met Will’s eyes, “why not?” 

“Because babysitting is an art,” Will told him with a smile, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to Hannibal’s dry lips, “one I am sure you will master with time.” 

The duckling squirmed around in Will’s palm and fixed Hannibal with a look that could only be described as a smug smirk. 

That was the third time little duckling Churchill was almost turning into dinner by Hannibal Lecter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may be over a week till the next update as I have my final A-Level exams from Monday! But as soon as it's done I will upload :) promise. Thanks for reading <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Will plan on attending a dinner party, but baby duckling Churchill has over plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams all over - so here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy :)

Will really should wear suits more often, Hannibal thought as he caught sight of his boyfriend behind him in the mirror. He wore a dark grey suit, a white shirt and a dark purple tie, and his dark curls under control with some hair gel and face clean shaven – making him look altogether ten years younger. 

Finishing tying the knot in his tie, Hannibal turned around and said, “thank you for agreeing to accompany me tonight, Will.” 

“Well as you sprang the invitation upon me in the middle of sex it was hard to refuse,” Will grumbled, not meet Hannibal’s eyes. 

“It’s just a dinner party,” Hannibal reassured him, crossing their large bedroom and placing his hands on Will’s shoulders, “good food, nice wine – maybe even a little dance afterwards.” 

“But we have excellent food and wine here,” Will began to complain. 

Hannibal stopped him by pressing a kiss to his lips, “thank you for compliment about my cooking, but it isn’t going to get you out of tonight.” 

Will sighed and pulled out of Hannibal’s grip and sat on their bed. He bit his bottom lip and Hannibal knew instantly he wasn’t telling him the truth. 

“Why don’t you want to go tonight, Will, really?” 

“It’s nothing,” Will said hastily, “you wouldn’t understand.” 

Hannibal’s eyebrows rose, it was often Will said that to him, he was the only person in the whole world who understood Will really. 

“Tell me,” he half demanded half asked, moving to sit beside his boyfriend and he laid a hand on his thigh. Hannibal could feel the heat of the other’s skin through the thin material of the suit trousers. 

“I...” Will began uneasily, “I’m worried about Churchill.” 

Hannibal had to restrain himself from sighing loudly and getting to his feet. 

“I don’t want to leave him alone for the evening, what if he needs me, what if he becomes scared of the dark or hears something that frightens him,” Will’s voice was anxious and eyes bright with bottled panic. 

Hannibal lifted his hand from Will’s thigh and ran his fingers through Will’s hair – not liking how the gel had made his soft curls stiff. 

“He is a duck, Will, not a child. He will be just fine, besides he sleeps through most evenings anyways, he won’t even realise we are gone.” 

“But –“ Will tried to continue and yet against Hannibal stopped him. 

“- Churchill isn’t our child, Will.” 

They sat in silence for a minute, Hannibal lifting his hand to the nape of Will’s neck possessively and Will worrying his lip between his teeth. 

“Hannibal,” Will murmured, “have you ever thought of us – you know – having kids?” 

Hannibal froze and gapped at Will, “are you being serious?” 

“Yeah...” Will said carefully, “we could look into adopting or something.” 

Hannibal removed his hand from Will’s neck and slowly rose to his feet. 

“Will, I don’t think...” he began warily but then he saw the glint in his boyfriend’s eyes and he trailed off, “You’re joking, aren’t you?” 

Will burst out laughing and stood up too, reaching to thread his fingers through Hannibal’s, “yes, sorry, was it not obvious.” 

Feeling embarrassed and frustrated, Hannibal dropped Will’s hand and turned on his heel. 

“Get your shoes on, we leave in five minutes,” he growled, before storming from the room. Will watched him go, still chuckling to himself. 

Will still had a smirk on his face when he descended the stairs a couple of minute’s later, Hannibal saw to his irritated. He stood by the front door, pulling on his long coat over the top of his suit jacket and picking up his expensive Egyptian cotton red scarf – it had begun to snow outside. 

“I’m just going to check Churchill is asleep,” Will told Hannibal as he went into the kitchen where the duckling was kept in his box on the worktop – much to Hannibal’s annoyance, he was so close to his oven it was ironically painful. 

Hannibal tucked the ends of his scarf into his coat and waited for Will to reappear. He could hear him speaking softly to his dogs and as he listened a strange paternal warmth inched its way into his heart. What would it be like if they did adopt a child? Was it coming they both should consider seriously now the ice had been broken on the subject? But Hannibal wasn’t able to dwell upon such thoughts very long before Will reappeared. 

“He’s fast asleep,” he informed Hannibal with relief. 

“I told you so,” Hannibal said, handing Will his coat, “can we please leave now?” 

“Yes, alright,” Will said, zipping up his coat and smiling at Hannibal, “are you going to be in a grump with me the whole evening?” 

Hannibal paused, his hand on the doorknob and his back to Will. 

“That depends,” he spoke slowly, turning back around, “how are you going to convince me otherwise?” 

Stepping forwards, Will pressed his body flush against Hannibal’s so he was pinning the taller man to the front door – a position that was normally the reverse. He slid his hands down Hannibal’s side to grip his hips and he leaned upwards so their noses were touching. 

“I can think of a few ways,” he whispered, his breath hot and smelling of toothpaste against Hannibal’s lips. 

Hannibal had to stop himself from moaning softly – he wasn’t that easy. He slipped his arms around Will’s waist and held him tightly against his body and angled his head to one side so he could fit his lips perfectly against Will’s own. They kissed hungrily, sharing one another’s heated breath and tasting the want with their tongues. “You sure we have to go out?” Will gasped against Hannibal’s lips. 

Hannibal nipped Will’s bottom lip slightly harder than was necessary before answered, “I think molesting you on the dance floor in front of everyone is a far more appealing notion then spending the evening on the sofa sharing you with your dogs.” 

Will groaned at the erotic image of Hannibal’s hands on his arse and his mouth on his neck whilst they swayed to music on the dance floor. “You’re the devil,” he hissed, eyes hooded with desire. 

Hannibal smirked and purposely pushed Will off him as he sneered, “You have no idea.” 

Hannibal once again found the door handle and had just turned it when suddenly from the kitchen there came crying. Will’s expression and body language changed instantly at the sound of little Churchill’s cries. His head snapped around in the direction and Hannibal sighed. Will looked back pleadingly at Hannibal but he didn’t need to convince him – Hannibal had already closed the door and was removing his coat. 

“Go and see to your duck.” 

Will beamed at Hannibal and darted forwards to give him a quick loving kiss before hurrying to the kitchen, calling out as he went, “It’s OK baby Churchill, daddy is coming.” 

Hannibal went back upstairs to take off his suit and laid it on the mattress as he went into the walk-in wardrobe to fetch the coat-hanger. When he returned, Will was laying on the bed and Churchill was wandering over the plush duvet beside him. 

“Can Churchill sleep with us tonight?” Will asked so innocently that it was impossible for Hannibal to say no. Or so he thought. 

It seemed to happen in slow-motion. The duckling waddled over towards Hannibal’s suit on the end of the bed and before either of them could stop him, Churchill had squatted down upon it and urinated. 

That was the fourth time little duckling Churchill was almost turning into dinner by Hannibal Lecter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it! Please let me know and please post any ideas you have for an upcoming chapter :) <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3 More on the way soon!


End file.
